The Howling
by abni
Summary: While Sam is away at Stanford, Dean sets out on a werewolf hunt on his own. The hunt doesn't go as planned and Dean meets with more than one surprise along the way. HurtSam, hurtDean, not deathfic. Co-written by Manavie.
1. Prologue

_This story is co-written __by Manavie_

_A/N: _Muffy Morrigan has been a great friend and support for both of us here on , so we thought we'd surprise her with a story now that she's on the way to the LA con. Through careful, innocent questioning, we found out that she likes vampires and werewolves - and of course hurt Sam and hurt Dean - so here's a story with all of these. Hope you'll like it, Muffy. Thank you for being our friend. _Manavie & Abni_

_A/N 2:_ This story can be seen as slightly AU, since we're having the boys encounter werewolves during Sam's Stanford years (Dean says in _Heart _that they haven't seen a werewolf since they were kids).

This is not a deathfic.

**The Howling**

**Prologue**

The full moon was shining down on the forest, its light creating ghostly shadows among the trees. The man was creeping stealthily forward, one step at a time, careful not to give away his presence by the rustle of leaves or the snap of breaking twigs beneath his feet.

He kept his focus on his target – a small clearing a few hundred meters ahead of him. He could see a shadow moving there, circling a dark shape on the ground. Suddenly the shape moved slightly, making the shadow freeze for a moment, then it moved closer to the shape. Seconds later, and ear-piercing scream of terror shook the woods before it was abruptly cut off. Then the triumphant howling of a wolf echoed among the trees.

The man started running towards the clearing, the moonlight glinting off the gun in his hand. He only had eyes for the clearing, everything else faded around him.

He never saw what hit him.

One moment he was running, the next he was flying through the air, stopping only when he crashed into a huge tree, crumbling to the ground beneath it. Before he could catch his breath, a lithe figure jumped towards him, landing on his chest. He managed to twist his hand and fire a shot at point-blank range, the bullet piercing right through his attacker.

It had absolutely no effect.

"Surprised?" The woman smiled at him, a wild, pleasure-filled look in her eyes as she saw the surprise and subsequent terror in his eyes. "Takes more than silver to harm someone like me…"

Her long dark hair flowed around her face as she bent her head and kissed him. He was unable to move, struggling to draw breath into his lungs, unable to do so because of her weight on his chest.

"So easy. Walking straight into our little trap!" she purred, then kissed him again as the two shapes from the clearing came bounding towards them, stopping behind her, wolf's teeth glinting in their humanoid faces as they smiled down at the hunter.

"This is the end, hunter!" she whispered before she pulled away the collar of his well-worn leather jacket and plunged her fangs into his neck. As the light slowly dimmed in the man's eyes, the wolf's triumphant howling once again shook the woods, this time joined by a second voice whose howling sounded eerily close to a human laughter.

A few moments later, the terror and pain in the man's green eyes turned to emptiness.

_**To Be Continued**_


	2. Chapter 1

_A/N: __Thank you so much for the reviews, hits and favs on the prologue!! Here's Chapter 1 – we hope you'll like it!_

_A couple of characters from Muffy Morrigan's story __**Last Plane Out**__ appear in a scene in this chapter. Hope you don't mind, Muffy – we realised that story was the first of your stories that we read, and since this story is for you, it seemed rather fitting to have them make a cameo appeareance. _

_The title of this story comes from the song by Within Temptation. _

_A/N 2__: Although this story also takes place during Sam's Stanford years, it is not as such connected to my stories Hitting Walls and Getting Scars and Picking Up the Pieces, which means that there may be differences between the universe I've created in those stories and what happens in this one. (I'm still working on the other werewolf story I hinted at in Picking Up and will start posting on it soon). Abni._

_Disclaimer: We own neither the song nor the characters from the show. Lisa and Jason belong to Muffy. _

**The Howling**

**Chapter 1**

_**Sam**_

"DEAN!" Sam's voice echoed in his empty room as his conscious mind finally managed to pull him from his nightmare, making him sit right up in bed before he was even awake. He gasped for breath, trying to quell the panic coursing through him making his heart pound like a steam train, each beat reverberating in his head like a hammer.

Sweat was pouring from him, whether from the fever that had been holding him captive for days or from his panicked, nightmare-induced thrashings. Slowly, agonizingly, his breathing calmed and he let himself fall back into the pillows, closing his eyes in the hope that it would still the painful throbs wracking his brain.

'_It was just a dream. Dean's ok, it was just a nightmare. That girl… She was a vampire. And I know they aren't real. Dad's never even mentioned them to us, all I know about them is stuff from books and films. Werewolves on the other hand…' _He smiled at the thought of the last time he had seen one – or rather of his brother's obvious pride after killing it, saving a young girl in the process. Letting the thought of his brother calm him, his breathing slowly returned to normal, and even though he felt he should change the sweat-soaked sheets that now felt cold and clammy against his skin, he fell asleep before he could muster up the energy to do so.

Only to awaken five minutes later from the same, terrifying nightmare.

This time, he awoke so suddenly that he was halfway out of his bed before he was fully awake. The frenzied movement brought on a wave of dizziness as his weakened body protested against the sudden change from horizontal to vertical, and seconds later he found himself lying on the floor. He breathed deeply, resisting the urge to run out the door in a frenzied attempt to get to his brother. '_Stop this, this is stupid. It's just a fever dream. It isn't as if I haven't had lots of nightmares these last nights… and days, for that matter.' _

He slowly dragged himself back onto his bed, careful not to move his head too quickly for fear of blacking out again. Once there, he reached out for the water bottle on his bedside table, only to find out he had already emptied it. In disgust, he threw the bottle across the room. '_Damn, I wish Dean was here…' _All through his life, he had seldom been ill or injured without his brother being there, just as he had always been there for Dean.

The thought of his brother brought back the terrifying images that the nightmare had shown him, and he felt panic well up in him again. '_Get a grip, for god's sake! It's just a nightmare!'_ He tried to control his breathing, to calm his wildly pounding heart, but the image of Dean dying, Dean being killed by a monster, wouldn't leave him.

'_What if… what if it's not just a nightmare? Ok, vampires aren't real, but werewolves are, and countless other monsters out there… What if… What if he's hurt? Or… No! Don't think that, he's not dead! I'm just over-reacting because of the fever.' _

Realising he wasn't going to get any more sleep unless he did something about his fever, Sam gently rose from his bed, staggered across the room to pick up the discarded water bottle, then slowly walked out his room to the bathroom to fill it up. Back in his room, he swallowed a couple of Tylenol, hoping they might help put down the fever. Then he went back to his bed and lay down, falling into a fitful sleep filled with ripping teeth and slashing claws and evil eyes and spurting blood.

He woke up some hours later, feeling slightly better than the day before. His fever seemed to be going down, though the lack of proper sleep meant his head felt all fuzzy. He took a shower to wash off the night's sweat and afterwards ate a light lunch, hearing his brother's voice in his mind telling him to eat if he wanted to get back on his feet. Fighting to swallow the last bits of his meal, he finally gave up and instead bought a packet of crackers and a large bottle of water to bring back to his room.

Once there, he sat down at his desk, looking at his laptop, trying to muster up the energy to do some studying. Instead, his thoughts kept reverting to his brother, and he took out his phone, his finger hovering over the buttons, tempted to call Dean to ask how he was. '_No, I'm just being silly. And anyway, there's no way I'll be able to hide being sick from him, and he'd just start worrying. No need to put that on him.' _He put his phone down with determination, ignoring the stab of pain it caused him to do so. He missed his brother more than he would admit even to himself, and the sporadic contact they had had during the almost two years since he had left to go to college had been far from enough to soothe that feeling.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a knock on his door. "It's open," he said, surprised by the hoarseness of his voice. '_Guess flu will do that to you.' _

The door opened, and his friends Lisa and Jason came in.

"Hey, champ!" Jason said. "How's it going? Haven't seen you in class for a couple of days."

"Nah, I've got a bout of flu, I think. Been spending most of my time in bed." Sam shrugged. "But I'm feeling better today."

"Ah, that's a shame. We've got tickets for the game tonight and wanted to ask you if you'd come. One of my friends is coming – you'll like her, I'm sure. Maybe you know her? Her name's Jessica. Blonde girl?" Lisa said, keeping her distance to Sam as if he was contagious. '_Well I guess I am_.' For some reason, the thought didn't really seem humorous to him.

"Ah, sorry. I think I better stay in bed for a couple of days more, I'm not really feeling up to anything." '_Jessica? Sure, I know her. Or rather, I know of her. And I'm so not going to a game with her all sniffly and flu'ed up'. _"Thanks for the offer, though. Maybe some other time?"

"Sure, no problem. Hope you get better soon! Is there anything we can do for you?" Lisa's voice was sincere, but for some reason Sam got the impression she was asking more out of a sense of duty than anything else, so he shook his head.

"No thanks, I'm fine. Just going to crash and watch some TV, I think." He mustered up a smile for them.

"Ok, then. Well, let us know if you need anything, ok, champ?" Jason clapped him briefly on the shoulder before following Lisa out the door.

Sam sighed as they left. He still hadn't gotten used to that whole having-friends thing, much less to the thought of letting someone other than Dean or his father help him or take care of him. He had learned from an early age to only depend on himself and his brother, and that habit proved harder to break than he would have thought. But somehow asking for help seemed to be the same as admitting weakness, and if there was one thing Sam had learned to do to perfection in his life was not to admit weakness or vulnerability, whether it was when faced with an angry spirit or with his own father. He had only ever let his brother get that close to him, and then often only reluctantly, when Dean saw through all his attempts to convince him that he was ok.And he had still to meet someone who came even close to being worthy of a similar trust. '_Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever meet someone I can trust that much.' _

Shivering suddenly, he realised his fever was going up again, so he took another Tylenol and settled in bed to watch TV.

A few hours later, he awoke with a start as a scream echoed through his room. Disoriented, he looked around to find the source and realised that it was just the TV showing some kind of documentary on the history of horror movies. Shaking his head and grinning a little, embarrassed with himself, he turned down the sound of the TV. '_Dean would never have let me live it down if he had seen that…'_

His thoughts once again returned to his nightmare, and he felt a little foolish thinking of his violent reaction to it. '_Stupid. It's not as if I've never had nightmares before. Guess it's the fever affecting me more than I thought. I'm getting a little paranoid.' _

That thought was confirmed an instant later when the insistent ringing of his cell phone made him jump.

He fumbled for his phone beneath the covers '_how on earth did it end up there? Guess I must've fallen asleep with it in my hand.' _He frowned when he saw the caller ID.

"Caleb?" '_What the hell? Oh my god, I hope it's not bad news… Dean… Dad…'_

"Hey, Sam. How are you?" their father's old friend asked.

"I'm fine, Caleb. How come you're calling?" Sam fought to keep his feeling of panic from being heard in his voice.

"Oh – oh, don't worry, Sam, it's not about your brother or father. They're both fine." '_Guess I didn't hide my worry very well after all. But thank god they're fine!' _Sam took a deep breath, trying to calm the frantic beating of his heart.

"Oh, right. How are you, Caleb? How come you're calling?" '_Great, I just repeated myself. That'll convince him I'm fine.' _

"I'm fine. Sam, are you sure you're fine? You don't really sound that fine."

"Yeah, I'm fine. I've had a bit of flu these last couple of days, but it's getting better." '_And I'm not going to mention any nightmares of Dean dying.' _He looked out the window at the moon. _Only two days till the moon's full. Almost time for werewolves… No, stop that, don't think that! It was just a dream. _

"Ah, right. Well, tell me if you need something, ok? You know we're still your friends even though you're not hunting anymore, right, Sam?"

Trying to quell a shiver that suddenly ran through his body, '_it's just the fever, it's not because I miss them all_,' Sam swallowed before answering. "I know, Caleb. But I'm ok. Really. Things are going fine here." '_Please believe me, Caleb. Please stop talking about this, ok?'_

"Ok, well you know where to find me. Anyway, I really just wanted to let you know that Dean's going to be in the area these next couple of days. You should give him a call, you could meet up after he's done with his hunt. I know he misses you, kiddo. He's just too damn proud to admit it."

Sam was silent for a few moments, thoughts racing through his mind. '_Dean here? But… If he wanted to see me, wouldn't he have called and let me know he was near?' _"Yeah… Maybe I will." Sam's voice was hesitant.

"Seriously, Sam. I mean it."

"Yeah, Caleb, I know. I'll call him tomorrow, how's that?"

"Sounds good, Sam. I know you and your Dad don't talk anymore, but there's no reason why you and your brother shouldn't do so."

They chatted for a while longer, Caleb bringing Sam up to date with the doings of their friends – not that there were many, John seldom having let the boys meet anyone other than Bobby, Pastor Jim, Joshua and Caleb. Sam told him a little of his life at Stanford but mainly just listened to Caleb talk, his concentration starting to slip as he grew tired and he started to shiver slightly from his fever.

Before he finished their conversation, though, Sam asked Caleb one last question that had been at the forefront of his mind since he had picked up his phone. "Hey, Caleb… Just curious - what is Dean hunting?" '_Please, don't let it be…'_

"Oh, didn't I tell you? It's a couple of werewolves."

_**Dean**_

Dean Winchester rolled onto his stomach and grunted when his phone started ringing. "Dammit!" He sleepily ran his hand through the drawer in the bedside table, grabbing his phone then almost dropping it on the floor as he fumbled to get it out.

"''m 'sleep" Dean slurred into the phone, only half awake and sleep tugging him back.

"Dean?" He dreamily heard his father's voice through the phone.

"Dean... Son, you there?"

"Hmmm," Dean mumbled, bringing his hand up to rub his eyes, trying to fight off the sleep. He was feeling exhausted and sore. The last hunt had been the second in a row without his father, and the last spirit definitely had fun throwing him around until his entire body felt like it was on fire.

"Dean, listen... I found a hunt for you." John's impatient voice rang through the phone. Dean was fully woken by the statement.

"Yes, sir… What is it?"

"It looks like a werewolf hunt… Lunar cycles are matching. It's been going on for about three months. I need you to look into it."

"Isn't Josh looking at it?" Dean asked, rubbing his face, wincing as he touched an especially sore spot. They usually left werewolves to Joshua, they had become his specialty.

"Joshua gave me the job. He's been hurt…"

"K," Dean muttered, then kept silent and jotted down the necessary details.

"Dad…What are you doing?" _' We could do this hunt together, dad…'_

"I'm still on the demon hunt with Bobby… I'll meet up with ya after the hunt."

"Yes, sir." Dean paused. "And dad, be careful, ok?"

"You too, Dean."

Dean shut the phone and sighed. God he missed his father. First Sam had taken off…. Dean ran a hand through his hair. Sam had been a constant in his life. Sure, John had been too, but not like Sam.

'_I miss you like hell, kiddo.'_ Dean sighed again. He wished he could call Sam and talk with him… Hell, he wished Sam would come back to them. It wasn't that he wasn't happy for Sam. His little brother in college… he hadn't been very accepting at first. The thought of his little brother going off to college alone, leaving him and their father behind, had killed him, but with time he had come to accept it and although he still missed Sam like crazy, he felt immensely proud of the kid.

'_New hunt…New town…And err…research.' _Dean groaned. Not that he hated research; it had just always been more Sam's department than his. '_Sam is the geek-boy wonder and I'm the kick-ass type_.' Dean smiled slightly at the thought. '_We made a damn good team.' _But these days without Sam or his father, he had to do both roles. Dean snorted.. "I Think I need one of those fancy laptops," Dean muttered dryly to himself. He shuddered at the thought of spending hours and hours listening to grieving relatives and ploughing through old newspaper articles. '_Well, no way around it without my sidekick geek-boy…'_

Dean idly looked at the clock and rubbed his sore neck. '_Huh, 4.00 a.m. Nice time to call, Dad_. _Oh, well. Time for action.' _Dean grinned to himself and grabbed the towel on the next bed. '_At least there's no one to steal the hot water from me.' _Although neither John nor Sam was with him, he still tended to take rooms with twin beds. It was comforting. That way, when John was not there with him, he could take the bed by the door. If he took the furthest bed, it would be a reminder that Sam wasn't there, and Dean just didn't want to go there. It was bad enough waking up to an empty room every day. This way, he could at least pretend that Sam or John might show up and share the room with him

Dean got up to his feet and headed to the bathroom. He let the hot water soothe his sore muscles. As the pain in his body eased, so did the tension in his mind and he started looking forward to the new hunt, not least because the coordinates John had given him would bring him close to Stanford. '_Maybe I should swing around… Maybe he'd want to see me…'_

Humming to himself, he got ready. Dean packed his duffels inside the Impala, then checked out of the room. Before opening the door, Dean patted the Impala lovingly. "Well, it's you and me again, baby." He nodded at the Impala and got inside. The Impala purred happily as Dean started the engine. "I swear you purposely do that to make me happy," Dean chuckled as he drove the Impala out of the parking lot towards Palo Alto, the hunt – and his brother.

It took almost six hours for Dean to reach to the town nearest to the woods where the victims had been found. Dean followed the almost daily routine. Find a motel…check in. Then ask directions for a decent restaurant _'Food before anything else.' _and the library. Get two cheeseburgers, flirt with the waitress , and get information about the people who were attacked. And where to find the sheriff.

After eating, Dean headed to the library. He searched through the newspapers of the past few months during which the killings had occurred. Most of the killings had happened on full moon. Only four recent deaths didn't fit the pattern. They had been killed at varying points in the lunar cycle, and the MO had been slightly different. The bodies had still been ripped to pieces, but the hearts hadn't been missing, which puzzled Dean slightly. '_Wonder what's with that. But maybe it's some psycho killer trying to hide his victims among the others_ '.Twenty three killings during the three months. Dean frowned. '_That means there's a pack or the damn werewolf have bonded with a mate. Great.' _Dean breathed angrily. The newspaper reports he found said that the police thought it was wild animal attacks. Dean snorted. '_Yeah…Wild animal all right…but supernaturally wild_.'

One article further stated that the investigations were still on-going and that wildlife rangers had been called to search for the animals in the woods on the western border of the town. 'Authorities are asking civilians to remain in their houses at night', the article ended. '_At least they are taking some sensible precautions…Just doesn't help that much when the monster's part human'._ Dean shook his head. He took photocopies of the newspaper articles, then left the library.

His next stop, the sheriff's office, had been interesting. With one of his false IDs (and a lot of charm of course), Dean was able to get a look at the files with the post mortems of the victim, their addresses and information about when and where they were attacked.He left the office grinning. '_Officer Butler strikes again. Thank god for small town cops. Especially female small-town cops with asshole bosses and too much desk time'_

By nightfall, Dean was tired to the bone. He had met two families and visited the places the victims had been attacked with one of those so-called rangers, though without gaining much significant information except for the fact that both victims in question had been know to frequent the local bars regularly.

'_Full moon is on in three days' time. Which means I have to find the werewolves behind this – sooner rather than later_. _I could sure use some back-up right now…'_

Suspecting that there was more than one werewolf, the first thing Dean did when he came back to his motel room was call his father, but he only got his voice mail. Dean rubbed his face wishing more than anything for John's presence. '_It's always been this way when dad's out hunting_. _Once he's taken off, there's no getting hold of him_.'

It had never stopped him from calling him, though.

Once again getting his father's voice-mail, Dean hung up, sighing. '_Well, Bobby is out of reach because he's with dad, and Pastor Jim's gone to Italy.' _He tried another of his father's friends Caleb, but he said that he was hot on the trail of a water wraith but that he might be able to come if he got the hunt finished in time Dean's finger rested lightly on Sam's speed-dial number, wishing he could just push the button and call his little brother for backup. '_But that won't work either. I'll go see him once the hunt's over instead.'_

Realizing that if he stayed on the bed much longer, his stiffening sore muscles would convince him to go to bed, he rose and pulled on his leather jacket, then went to the local bar. He chose a table at the far end, back to the wall, and settled down for a few beers. Dean threw a short glance at the pool table but wasn't in the mood to play. He had more than one werewolf to deal with and only two more days to finish his investigation. '_I need to be ready on the day of the full moon._ _I need to figure out who it is_' He shook his head and started going through the articles again. '_There has to be something in here. They have to have something in common. Why were they chosen as victims? They were all found in the woods, but I'm pretty sure that wasn't where they were when they were attacked… Damn, look at me sitting here, doing research in a bar… I'm starting to look like Sam with all this research stuff.'_

One of the main reasons Dean had decided to come to the bar was because this was one of the places where he could meet – and find out more about – the people of the town. Dean looked around every ten minutes, studying the people in between flirting with the bartenders. '_This is more like the kind of research I like to do…_

Suddenly, there was a loud bang, and Dean and the bartender_ 'what's her name again…Oh yeah…Jean' _, looked at the door that was slammed shut. Jean's face clouded slightly when three hot chicks went to the counter associated by three men. Two of the girls were blonde and the other one had long dark hair. Dean watched as they all ordered beers, and the dark haired girl propped herself on the counter and gave an examining stare around the bar. Her brown eyes met with and were locked in Dean's green eyes. Dean felt a cold shiver run down his spine at her intense look, and after what felt like hours she looked away and whispered to one of the blondes. Dean swallowed, feeling his hairs standing on end all over his body. Something was off with her, but Dean couldn't help but stare at her….it was like she was almost hypnotizing him.

Their eyes met again and she smiled at him. It was a smile full of lust. Dean blinked when he felt a warm hand touching him. He snapped back from his daze and looked at the bartender, who was glaring at the girl with a cold expression.

"If I were you, I'd stay away. She's bad news," the bartender said, glaring at the brown-haired girl again before going back to the counter. Dean looked back at the girl. She was still smiling at him, running her hand slowly over her glass of beer. Dean shuddered, then finally managed to tear his eyes away from her when a couple of guys moved in front of him, blocking her from view. When they moved away, she was gone.

Suddenly, Dean could feel eyes on him, his instincts kicking in full force, his body tensing, ready for an attack. Dean swallowed and looked around, trying to figure out where the threat might come from'. He was started when the brown-haired girl noiselessly appeared beside him, dropping into the chair next to him. She gave him an openly lustful look, making a shiver run through his body.

"You know what? Why don't we go somewhere and have angry sex?" She fingered Dean's bottle, then brought her hand up her mouth and licked her finger. "What do you say, pretty boy?" she asked, gently running her other hand along Dean's arm. It was unnaturally cold and Dean felt chilled.

Dean carefully pulled his emotions back under control and responded coolly. "I hate to say this sweetheart…I'm not in the mind to do random!"

"I promise that you'll never forget it." She bent over and whispered into Dean's ear, puffing hot breath on his skin. '_Yeah…like hell I will.'_

Dean recoiled a bit from her. "Really, I'm not the mood."_ 'What's with this girl? For some reason, I think she's bad news… __Could she be…?'_

"Now, now, don't be…" She froze in mid-sentence as her eyes locked onto something other than Dean's face. He followed her eyes and almost gasped when he realized what it was that had caught her attention. It was the newspaper articles. '_Damn!'_

Her eyes went dark and cold, almost maniacal, and Dean's heart started racing.

'_There's definitely something about her… I need to find out more about her, who she is, where she's from… She seems a little too interested in those articles… and in me. Not that I'd usually mind the latter, but'_

"You interested?" she asked, motioning towards the articles. Her face was blank, but the eyes carried an evil glint.

"Yeah, have a deadline to meet." Dean kept his voice even, betraying none of the unease he felt within

"I'll see you around, hotshot….You wouldn't resist the temptation, now would you?" She bent closer to him and their lips almost touched. Winking at him, she slid off the chair and walked back to the two other girls. Casting one last glance at Dean, they went out the door, and only then did Dean let himself relax, letting out the breath he had been holding throughout the encounter.

Not feeling in the mood for any more contact with the locals, he gathered his articles, picked up his leather jacket and went back to the motel.

A short while later, he went to sleep in his room, his faithful knife and a gun loaded with silver bullets his only companions.

_**To Be Continued**_


	3. Chapter 2

**The Howling**

**Chapter Two**

_**Sam**_

It was all Sam could do to remain calm while he finished the conversation with Caleb. _Werewolves? WHAT?? But my dream… No, it can't be, it was just a dream. _He felt the panic of the night before return and concentrated on breathing deeply to hide his worry from Caleb. _He'd think I was crazy, pretending to have some kind of dream about Dean dying. But it's weird… And I can't shake this feeling… _

He quickly finished the call, then sat staring at the moon for a few minutes. _It was just a dream. Stop being so foolish. It has nothing to do with Dean hunting werewolves. Fever makes people imagine all kinds of things, and it's not like I've never had nightmares before. _He suddenly noticed that his hands were shaking and realised that the shivering was running through his entire body. _It's just the fever. For god's sake, calm down! This is crazy!_ Unable to quell his panic, he reverted to the one thing that had always been able to calm him down, even when faced with the unnameable monsters they had encountered from a far-too-early age. He picked up his phone and called Dean's number.

And listened to it ringing.

And ringing.

And ringing.

Click. "This is Dean Winchester. If this is an emergency, leave a message…" Sam hung up, having no idea what kind of message his current state of panic might make him leave if he allowed himself to speak. _Emergency? I don't know, Dean. Is it an emergency that I had a nightmare about you being killed by a vampire getting help from werewolves? And that you turn out to be hunting werewolves right now? _He smiled briefly, imagining his brother's reaction to such a message. _He'd say I was crazy. And I probably am. He's probably at some bar right now with a chick on his arm, getting ready for a night of fun. _

He sighed, the thought of his brother prowling one of the bars that constituted his usual hunting grounds calming him a little. _I'm sure he's fine. I'm just over-reacting a little. _He took a couple of deep breaths, calming his wildly beating heart, then yawned. _God, I hate being sick. Pain I know, pain I can deal with, but fever's a bitch, this feeling of exhaustion…_Starting to sway slightly in his seat, he realised it was time for him to get back to his bed if he wasn't to spend his night on the floor again. He rose gently, remembering his encounter with the carpet that morning, and padded across the room to sink exhaustedly down onto his bed.

Before he let himself fall asleep, he tried Dean's number once more. When his brother still didn't pick up, Sam left a sleepy message telling him to call him back, then settled down to sleep. At first, he wasn't able to, the worry for Dean still keeping him tense and alert, but finally the long feverish days caught up with him and he fell asleep.

Two hours later, he woke up, drenched in sweat, his heart pounding as if it were trying to work its way out through his rib case. He figured it had been another nightmare but couldn't remember anything. _I just have this feeling of dread… as if something bad's going to happen… I wish Dean were here…_ Although Sam might never admit it, Dean was the only one who had ever really been able to make him feel safe, the only one whom he believed when he said that things were going to be ok. He remembered countless night through the years when his brother had calmed him down after the recurring nightmares that had haunted him even before he knew the nightmare things his mind was creating were real.

One of the hardest things to get used to after moving to Stanford had been waking up alone with no one but himself to chase his inner demons away. He had even shared a room with another guy for a while, but had finally been asked to move because the guy got fed up with being woken up at night by Sam's screams.

Sam hadn't been able to tell the guy that most of his nightmares were based on things he had actually seen and experienced, nor that the worst ones were of his brother or father being killed.

Looking at his watch, he saw it was only 11 pm, so he decided to try giving Dean another call, figuring he'd still be awake. Dean still didn't pick up, so Sam left him another message.

"Hey, Dean, it's me. Sam. I, er… I heard you're in the area. Hunting werewolves. Uh. If… if you need a hand, call me, ok? Caleb told me you're on your own… Don't do anything foolish, ok?" _Shit, I sound like a mother hen. _He cleared his throat. "Just… Be safe, Dean, ok?" He hung up before he could say anything more. He feared that the disappointment and worry that the fact that he couldn't reach his brother caused in him would come out too strongly if he said anything more, and that was one thing his brother was never going to let him live down. He had been called 'Samantha' often enough to last a lifetime.

_He's ok. He's just at the bar, picking up some girl or playing pool. __Why can't I convince myself that that's the case?? Why do I keep feeling this way? _Trying to rationalise his reaction, he lay for a while thinking through the events of the past days, the things he'd seen on the TV that might have reminded him of werewolves and caused the nightmare. He had to give up, though, since the last few feverish days stubbornly remained hazy in his mind, consisting of nothing but unclear memories of being half awake watching TV, occasionally eating and drinking a little and staggering back and forth to the bathroom. _But at least I didn't have to do a daily run like that time… _His mind strayed to childhood memories of being sick, and soon after he once again fell asleep.

_The moonlight glinted in the shiny hood of the black car as it pulled off the road and parked on the grass verge between the road and the dense forest. __Dean opened the door and stepped out gun in hand. He walked to the trunk and opened it, picking out another gun and a handful of bullets. He stood for a second looking into the darkness that lay among the trees, then he squared his shoulders as if making up his mind before walking into the darkness. _

_He moved stealthily, careful where he walked, so as not to give away his presence. He followed a seldom-used path through the trees, stopping occasionally as if taking in his surroundings, checking the direction of the wind, making sure he kept it in his face. __Suddenly he froze as he spotted a shape moving in the forest about 20 meters ahead of him. The shape moved slowly, noisily, seemingly bogged down by a weight on its shoulders. When the figure moved through a patch of moonlight, it was evident that the weight was a human being – dead or unconscious, judging from the lack of movement and lax nature of the body. _

_Dean followed, keeping his distance. He had to make a detour when the path suddenly took a sharp turn, picking his way through the trees to keep downwind from the figure. __He cursed silently when he came across a shallow ditch and had to wade across. Afterwards he had to pick up his pace to keep his prey in sight, weaving his way among the trunks, breathing a sigh of relief when the path turned sharply again, giving him the opportunity to return to it, making his progress easier._

_At one point, the figure stopped, lifting its head as if sniffing the air, and Dean instantly dropped to the ground, snaking underneath the bushes lining the path, trying to make himself invisible. __When the figure continued forwards, he crawled out, rising slowly and pausing before going on, letting a good distance develop between him and the figure. The path widened and started going in a straight line, so he could let the figure get a couple of hundred meters ahead of him and still keep it in sight, as the widening path allowed more moonlight to filter through. _

_Suddenly the figure stopped and lay the body down on the ground, then slowly started circling what Dean discovered was a small clearing. The figure moved around the body on the ground, first walking around the perimeter of the clearing then going back to the body as if to check on it. Then it walked away again, moving back and forth, restlessly. It froze when the body on the ground moved slightly, then leaped towards it to land right next to it. _

_The person on the ground screamed, the sound echoing eerily among the trees, terrifying the hunter. _

_The voice was cut off, but the sound was clear enough to let the hunter hear the name it screamed. _

"_DEAN!"_

_The scream__ was succeeded by the werewolf's triumphant howling._

_Dean started running towards the clearing. _

"Dean!" Sam's call for his brother sounded almost as desperate as that in his dream. He woke with a start, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might be about to give out, and a blinding headache squeezing his brain, making him freeze in the middle of a movement, fearing that further movement might aggravate his head even more. He tried breathing deeply, partly to still his beating heart, partly to fight down the nausea that the terrible headache brought on, but he soon realised that he was fighting a losing battle on both accounts.

He stumbled out of bed towards his desk, reaching his wastepaper basket just in time before the meagre contents of his stomach made a reappearance. He gagged a few times, the tried to rise to get his water bottle from his bedside table, but the movement caused his headache to spike, sending him crashing to the floor as the pain blacked out all thought and he lost consciousness.

A few hours later he woke up – at least he presumed it was hours later, since the moonlight filtering through his curtains had turned to the greyish light of morning. He moved gently, remembering the terrible pain that had taken away his consciousness in the night, but his headache seemed to have receded to a dull throb rather than the white-hot agony of earlier. Releasing a breath he hadn't even realised he had been holding, he slowly rose and padded to his bed, thirstily draining his water bottle. Then the memory of his nightmare hit him.

_DEAN! __Oh my god, Dean! It was the same dream… If it was a dream, it felt so real… But how can it be? _His hands started shaking as he remembered how he had seen the light go out in Dean's eyes the night before. _No, no, no… It can't be, it can't happen, I won't let it happen… I need to find him, I need to get to him, I need to warn him. _

He couldn't explain why the dream felt so real, he just knew that every instinct in him were screaming at him that this danger to his brother was real and he had to do something about it, no matter how firmly he had vowed never to go hunting again. He looked around for his phone, growing frantic when he failed to find it, throwing his pillow and the covers off the bed, his movements growing increasingly frenzied until he saw it lying underneath his bed. He bent down to grab it, swaying suddenly as the movement brought a rush of blood to his head, but gritting his teeth and fighting back the darkness it brought onto him. Then he sat down on the bed and speed-dialled Dean's number once more. _Please, Dean, please be ok. Please pick up. _

Again, no answer.

This time, it went straight to voice-mail without even ringing.

_Dean? What are you doing? Why won't you pick up? Or… Maybe you can't? What the hell is going on, Dean? No, he might just be sleeping still…_Sam flashed a glance at his watch, seeing it was almost 9.30. _If he got lucky last night, he might be oblivious… Now that Dad isn't with him to thrown him out of bed if he doesn't get up himself… _His thoughts did nothing to quell the worry that was rising in him like a flood. _Or maybe, maybe the battery's dead. Yeah, that's probably it. Calm down, stop this over-reacting. Full moon isn't until tomorrow night. He's ok. He's ok, he has to be. I can't… Dean, please be ok. _

Suddenly overwhelmed by the realisation of how empty his life would be without Dean, Sam tried Dean's number once more, and when there was still no answer, he didn't take long to make up his mind. _I'm going to find him. He's somewhere in the area, I should be able to find him. I'll take off now, call Caleb, find out what area he's in, then call him later and meet up with him. I have to be there, if… if those woods are really real, if those werewolves… if that vampire…_He shook his head, trying to convince himself how foolish he sounded, but at the same time his hands had already started packing his bag with the basic supplies he'd need.

When he was done, he called his brother again, then, since there was still no answer, he dialled Caleb's number.

"Caleb? Hi, it's Sam. Listen, do you know exactly where this hunt of Dean's is?" he rattled off once Caleb picked up.

"Whoa, Sam, slow down! What's going on? What's the hurry?" Caleb's voice was puzzled.

Sam took a deep breath, trying to calm himself before speaking again. "Uh, nothing, I just thought… I just thought, now that Dean's in the area, I'd seek him out, maybe spend a couple of days with him, you know?" _Please believe me, Caleb, I can't explain further. _

"Ah, right! That's a great idea, Sam, but I'm afraid I don't know exactly where he is. He just said he was somewhere south of Palo Alto, that's all I know. Why don't you just call him and ask? I'm sure he'd be happy to hear from you!"

"I did, but he didn't pick up, so I thought I'd see if I could find him and surprise him, you know?" Sam tried to sound light-hearted and excited.

"Yeah, sounds like a great idea, kiddo! But how's your flu, shouldn't you rather stay home and rest?"

"Oh, I'm feeling much better today. And I think some fresh air will do me good, I've been holed up here in my room for five days, I'm going a little stir crazy." _Shut up, stop being so damn chatty. _

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry I can't help you out. I'm not sure anyone but Dean and your father know the exact location. But I'm sure you'll be able to find him, his car _is_ kind of conspicuous…"

Sam laughed, hoping it didn't sound too strained. _Yeah, I'll find him. I have to. I just have to. _"Yeah, I'm sure I will. Thanks anyway, and thanks for calling me last night, too, Caleb!"

"No problem, kiddo. Keep in touch, will ya?"

"I will. Take care." _And that is about one of the silliest things you can say to a hunter. Next to 'be safe', I guess. Oh god, Dean, please take care, ok? _

"You too, Sam. You too. And tell that brother of yours hi when you see him, and tell him he owes me a rematch. He'll know what I'm talking about."

"Sure, I'll do that. Bye!" _Ok, stop talking, I need to get going now. _He tried to still the restless movements of his leg as he finished the call. _I need to go, I need to find him, I need to save him. _

"Bye, Sam." Caleb hung up, making Sam breathe a sigh of relief, then he grabbed his bag from his bed and walked out the door, ready to start the search for his brother.

Praying he would be in time to save his life.

_**To Be Continued**_


End file.
